


flickers in the mist

by thewinifred



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Character Study - Somewhat, Ficlet Collection, Flash Fic, Gen, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29289699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinifred/pseuds/thewinifred
Summary: I - Anchor in the DarkThe Garrison's not home. It's too different and rigid for that. Space is even worse.
Kudos: 3





	1. I - Anchor in the Dark

The first day of anything, Lance knew, was the worst.

The first day he had found out about his family moving, he’d cried, and cried, and cried, until Veronica had yanked him out of their shared bedroom to show him pictures of where Papi was going to be taking them. It had taken hours before he gave into the slight thrill of excitement.

The first day he had gone to a new school, he’d stared at his feet and spoken only in mumbles to his teachers' questions and even when he'd seen the prettiest girl he'd ever been in the presence of sitting down next to him from the peripheral of his vision, Lance had refused to make an exception to his no-eye-contact rule.

The first day he spent in the Garrison, all Lance could remember of his first twenty-four hours was endless excited fluttering in his abdomen, foggy muffled noises in his ears, and a frantic constant struggle to understand which classes to get to and which rules to memorise. The Garrison’s environment had been like scrounging for an anchor after being thrown head-first into icy, dark water. Hunk had been that anchor.

Now, as he panted and collapsed to the ground after the epic failure of a training exercise Allura had orchestrated for her newfound paladin-minions, he found himself reaching for that same anchor.

“That was horrible,” Hunk wheezed at him, and Lance could only shake his head in agreement.

It had only taken three or so months for him to gain his bearings with Hunk as his roommate and adjust to the Garrison’s rigid routine - he wondered how long it would take him to adapt here in the unforgiving tempo of space.


	2. II - Mire of Virtues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**II - Mire of Virtues**   
>  _   
>  _The roles of predator and prey are constant, even within the chaos the vast universe holds._   
> 

The reptilian creature's crimson eyes hold a code that only Keith understands.

_Wrong, wrong, wrong. This situation is wrong. Something's not right._

Those eyes gleam with something foul and the pupils spasm with cunning and relish as they rove over Keith's teammates. 

He shifts at the edge of the group, willing the creature to stop speaking in its grating tones during its diplomatic discourse with the princess and Shiro - Keith wills the creature's eyes to meet his so it can understand the coded warning Keith knows is written _there_ , but for some reason or another, the scaly alien shoots him not one glance.

"Voltron will be happy to assist with your caves," the princess declares. "With my father's history regarding your planet, we'll be happy to do whatever we can to restore your home to what it formerly was."

"You'll find ussss grateful for the kindnesss," comes the response.

Keith grits his teeth. Even the creature's voice is filled with something secretive, a cipher of something knowing and amused hidden beneath sibilant notes. It's sinister and burrows deep beneath Keith's skin like a taunt.

* * *

He sees the betrayal coming from the beginning, but it's not satisfying to be proven right when Lance is bleeding out somewhere behind him and Pidge's still frame is flung over one shoulder. There's not much time to spare if he wants to get all three of them out of the cave before it collapses down on them all. 

Despite all of that, Keith indulges a single second in evaluating the unmoving weight beside his feet. Fog has slipped over the crimson eyes. A shiver follows the brief warmth of satisfaction.


	3. III - Tangy Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**III - Tangy Musings**   
>  _   
>  _Comfort comes even from the alien, the unknown._   
> 

"What do you think you're doing, Number Two?"

"Nothing bad," Hunk mumbles under his breath as he skids to avoid Coran's frantic flailing and clutches his treasure to his chest. Some liquid slops out of it and dampens his shirt but Hunk's used to messes in the kitchen. The sensation just makes him relax more as he strides to grab a long ladle from a nearby counter. Raising his voice slightly over his shoulder, he says, "I'm making something for us to eat other than that sodium-y green gloop. No offence, Coran - it definitely does its job with nutrition and all that, but man you've been holding back on space goodies, and I'm not sure I can forgive you for that."

Coran's flabberghasted face is reflected in the polished surface of the freezing cubicle Hunk is moving towards. He has to smother a chuckle. It feels a bit like he's intruding upon the Altean's domain, but he hopes the man will relax with Hunk's presence easily enough.

"You can't put flowers in food," the ginger-headed man insists. "Especially not in water. That makes medicine, not food."

"These are herbs, not flowers. And anyway, that's not remotely true."

"Where did you even get them from?"

"The space mall!"

"I knew I should have just taken care of my errand there by myself. Would've saved myself some trouble if I had. I had no idea you humans are so into shopping." 

"It's not shopping so much as it is access to things we used to have back at home." Hunk doesn't entirely disagree that going to the space mall had landed the team with trouble - but to be fair, Lance & Pidge were the main ones who had caused that trouble, and they can find that trouble anywhere they please, so he also doesn't exactly agree either. After their one outing there, Lance and Pidge have been hankering to return to the space mall, their lists of 'necessities' getting longer and longer with every day that passes. Video games, skincare products, mechanical components, and a whole lot more. He can't blame them for wanting things which remind them of home (and he definitely can't tell himself with full honesty he doesn't plan to borrow their goods every now and then either; really, it's only a matter of time until his two teammates find a way to get back to that space mall on their own.)

This time, Hunk fails to smother his giggle at Coran's disgusted expression as Hunk moves to dunk some flavouring sachets and twigs into the broth he's concocting. There's some stiff strips of paste he's placed into the freezer a few vargas ago - they're wonderfully unyielding under his fingers as he pulls them out of the drawer and places them into a separate bowl to boil. They're bland and a bit salty, but they'll look like noodles soon. "You're going to like this, I promise," he says.

Coran tugs on his moustache. "It doesn't look appetising at all, I must say."

"Neither does the food goo, but we humans have adjusted to that, haven't we? C'mon, I know you're used to Altean cuisine, but you've got to give this a try once I'm done. I made some before, and not to blow my own horn, but it sold like hot cakes in that space stall." Hunk flicks a match and carefully places the bubbling pot over the sudden flames rising up in the centre of the room. He leans forward to take in the wonderful spicy heat against his cheeks, eyelids fluttering close for a moment. Following muscle memory, his fingers grab for his ladle and soon Hunk's lost in the familiarity of mindless stirring.


	4. IV - Black Streaks Across the Chart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**IV - Black Streaks Across the Chart**   
>  _   
>  _Leadership is more a jagged cliff than a pathway to honour._   
> 

She can't swallow the big knot in her throat, and she can't let the stinging of her eyes out. So her nails dig into the flesh of her palm, hands hidden behind her back, so the helplessness and the strain upon her thoughts can exit through the dull crescents of pain instead.

Allura's exhale is one controlled puff of white unfurling into the air in front of her.

"We have no choice, but to accept your terms," she intones, and she imagines Coran's face distorting into something disappointed and crude like she imagines her father's face would be. She pretends not to feel Shiro's concern bleeding out of him behind her as he touches her elbow. Allura steps forward, towards the gleeful monster waiting in front of her, and away from the gentle reassurance.

"It's decided, then," the monster rumbles, fangs peeking out from bloodless lips. 

Canines lengthen within Allura's own mouth, pointed ends digging into soft flesh. Allura smiles while keeping her teeth firmly hidden. Shoulders tight, she nods, and turns around to take in the thrumming anxiety of her paladins. _Trust me,_ she wants them to hear, but her eyes cannot meet them.

Her mind races to figure a way out for them as soon as possible.


	5. V - Where One Finds Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**V - Where One Finds Rest**   
>  _   
>  _Sometimes she can hear her mother's voice, feel her fingers ruffling her hair, and there's nothing to do but close her eyes and keep the despair at bay._   
> 

The ceiling of the corridor looms up high above her, unforgiving bright light beaming down as Pidge tries to blink away the sand in her eyes. She's got her customised headset dangling at her neck and three connected gadgets balanced in her arms - as she patters towards her room with light footsteps in case any of the others are in danger of awakening, Pidge's mind drifts away from today's session of fiddling around with whatever she can get her hands on, and towards the impending task of falling asleep.

Her door shuts with a hushed click as the girl places everything on her person down onto the tiny lap table in the corner of her room. Not bothering to change, she kicks off her shoes and slides between the sheets from her bed which are as disarrayed as they were when she'd woken up that morning. She twists and twists until her cold arms are sufficiently covered tightly. Fingers grasp the sides of her pillow, and Pidge gratefully presses her forehead into cool fabric, not minding the wrinkles. A deep sigh tumbles from chapped lips.

"Too hot," she grumbles, and with legs wriggling furiously, her torso is blessedly exposed to cool air without her needing to unwrap herself from her cocoon.

Minutes trickle by. Pidge's eyes keep fluttering open and close. She tries to reach towards the darkness slowly draining into the sides of her vision, and eventually stretches herself out into a starfish position - but no matter how much she tries to get comfortable, she still can't fall asleep. There's an aching hollow hole in her abdomen. _Must be hunger,_ she thinks, and refuses to reach up to wipe at her cheeks.


	6. VI - The Ultimate Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**VI - The Ultimate Disguise**   
>  _   
>  _Sometimes all one can do is put up a pretense._   
> 

"Be quiet, Lance," Shiro says sternly one day in the middle of a chaotic dinner, when Lance and Keith are in the middle of one of their private squabbles and his headache is pounding too badly to control the edge in his voice. He carefully averts his attention when the boy does exactly as he's told and makes an effort not to acknowledge the abrupt rush of guilt which assaults him by paying no glances in Lance's direction for the rest of the meal.

"It'll be okay," he says, when Hunk's bleeding from his abdomen and clinging onto Shiro's hand too tightly, and he has to do his best not to let panic break through the stony hardness in his eyes when Pidge's voice doesn't buzz quickly enough in his ears and the footsteps surrounding them come louder.

"Talk to me," he pleads, as Keith's sullen face peers at him and none of his usual stock of patient phrases keep the other from curling his hands into fists. He hates himself a bit when Keith eventually does succumb to Shiro's request, and Shiro is left with nothing helpful to say at all.

With Pidge, there are no words which work either, but he can touch her shoulders and pull her in to his hug without resistence, and for a minute, fill the role of big brother she misses. It's a skin he slips into easily, but one which is accompanied with memories of Matt. The relief of Pidge's swift acceptance of his embrace mixes with bitterness and the tang of regret.

Funnily enough, it's only when he sets himself into a soldier's stance behind the princess and can see Allura's wet, cold eyes reflected in the metal in front of him that Shiro can breathe fully. The burden of duty falls away as the familiarity of obedience fills him with confidence, a feeling of competence he can trust in.


End file.
